


Please Stay

by AlexisGreen (thealexmachina)



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-07 02:08:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14661138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealexmachina/pseuds/AlexisGreen
Summary: The truth about exaltation is not easy to bear.





	Please Stay

**Author's Note:**

> I always imagined Jaal's reaction to finding out the truth about the exaltation is much worse than what we get in MEA. Hence... smut. Well, you should know smut is never far away in most of my stories. Enjoy.
> 
> (Text inspired by Nothing By Thieves - Lover Please Stay)

It takes her several tries to get the words out. “Let me be strong for you. Not for the Initiative, not for the Tempest. For you. Whatever you want, whatever you need. Just. Don’t go.” 

No one could have predicted today. Their rescue mission had always had high stakes, recover the Moshae, get access to Aya’s vault. It turns out they found a truth they’re not ready for, not equipped to deal with. And for some, who have been fighting the Kett for years, that truth is devastating. Sara watches Jaal pack, weapons, supplies thrown carelessly into a bag. She’s not sure her words have registered, so she tries again, closer this time, touching his shoulder timidly. “I know you’re weary. Stay. Please stay.” He shrugs her hand off. Undeterred, Sara presses against his back, forehead between his shoulder blades, and begs. “I’m here. Take from me whatever you need. You’d do the same for me. I know you would.”

She knows when he gives into her. At his side, his hand stops fighting hers. Today brings many kinds of defeat, his posture says. Sara Ryder’s always been stubborn though. She grasps his uncooperative fingers to drag him to the improvised bed in the corner. Pushed towards it, he sits down with little grace. Levelled with her, she gets a first good look at all the sorrow in his face. Anger faded quick once they got back on the ship. Curses too many to be intercepted by her translator gave way to silence. A silence so terrifying that made her check in on him as soon as the Moshae had stabilised, only to find him ready to bolt. Behind the anger, there’s pain now, existential and basic, so fundamental she doesn’t quite know what to say. Other than beg. She knows she can’t lose him; they’ve had so few firsts together, so little time to just be. They haven’t even fought yet; she knows it’s absurd but she wants that chance, to fight over something stupid, like wet towels left on bathroom floor. They’re not living a normal life, she knows it and she fears it equally; he could so easily be reassigned to another outpost or worse, she could lose him to a Kett weapon. But in all those scenarios she imagines, she wouldn’t feel as powerless as she is now, unable to help, watching, dreading him making up his mind whether to quit the team and go back to Aya. She fears the finality of it; she knows if it happens, it’s not temporary. There’ll be no more planet hopping, no Remnant puzzles, no strategy of going after the Archon together; he’ll go back to being a soldier, doing what soldiers do and it might be cowardly but her heart hurts just thinking of the sort of danger he’ll throw himself into to forget about their discovery on Voeld today.

For now, he sits in front of her, near catatonic. She climbs into his lap, fighting for each inch of real estate on his knees, fighting his unwillingness to be comforted. “Let me, Jaal. Let me, damn it.”

He finally looks at her, something in her voice clearing out his eyes. Tears still flow, she doesn’t think he even realises, but his eyes, his beautiful, soulful eyes are at least returning to hers. “Sara. I can’t. Today has been too much. I can’t be yours and... be me as well. I have to... I don’t even know how to reconcile what I’ve seen today. It’s like I’ve lost pieces of myself on that base and I don’t know how to put myself together anymore.” 

“I can feel you slipping,” Sara confesses. If he does go, he must know what it means for her. She kisses the tears, dries his cheekbones. “I can taste you slipping away. I feel the sorrow pouring out of your skin.” She runs her hands over his shoulders, down the front of his armour and all the way to his own gloveless fingers, where electricity simmers out of check. “I worry,” she’s so selfish for pointing this out, “that if you walk out, if I let you go, I’ll never see you again.”

“Sara, darling one…” 

She stops him with a small kiss. “Let me be the strong one. Just stay with me. Don’t leave me alone tonight - if you leave now, I’ll always feel alone. Take from me, my strength, my love, they’re yours.” 

Eyes locked into his, she pulls her tshirt over her head. Bra quickly follows it to the floor. She makes sure he’s not going anywhere then lifts up to unbutton her trousers. She’s quick to pull them off, panties sliding along her legs with them. She sees his fingers twitching on the cot, bunching up the blanket. His eyes have moved off to watch the bounce of her tits; he’s still here, she breathes in relief, as she kneels in front of him.

The clasps at his shoulders are ones she’s figured out a while ago, so they’re easy to deal with. She strains to get the ones at his sides, a little difficult to reach in her position, so she moves his knees apart to settle closer to him. He lets her push the armour off but doesn’t move to hold her. It’s almost painful to feel the distance between them, as small as it might be. Her skin begs for his skin, but she carries on, unzipping his under-suit. She makes sure to touch as much of the skin on display now; firm fingers massage his shoulders, caress his chest, rise up to stroke his neck. She waits for a while, letting her warmth transfer to him, then her lips join the dance of her hands across his chest, dropping soft touches along. She thinks she’s making progress when his hand suddenly tangles in her hair, with explicit intent to stop her. She bites him lightly once just under his collarbone, then harder right at the base of his neck. She finally looks back to him. “Let me,” her voice trembles, but her hands are still sure, reaching out for the clasps at his waist. “Okay?” She wants him to say it; she’s selfish but she can’t live with bullying him into being intimate. Her hands linger at his waist, not daring to move any further.

His movement’s so sudden it takes her by surprise; in seconds she’s crushed against him, as he buries his face into her, leaving wet kisses on her neck. He breathes a hot “I’m sorry, darling one,” on her skin, then pulls her back just a little to nod his consent. 

Her hands turn frantic. She doesn’t want this anxiety between them, but she doesn’t want him second guessing his choice either. There’s a high-pitched keen letting loose from her throat, his mouth and teeth determined on her skin. The temptation to use biotics just to pull the armour away from his lower body is strong, but she’d likely hurt him if she tried. Blessedly, he helps, just enough to free his cock beneath her. She quickly rubs it between her lips making sure they’re both wet, so, so wet, then sinks into him all at once. 

Breath punched out of him at her sudden move, he spreads his fingers in her hair, pulling her down and into him; she’s happy they’re finally on the same page, sucked under by their love, desperate to be closer. She rides him hard, arms tight behind his head. Smothered into her chest, he sucks on her tits, abandon blissfully taking over. Electric current zaps between them and she’s grateful for every reminder that he’s still here, still hers. They move together, Sara still kneeling, Jaal‘s arm across her back, fingers curled over right shoulder anchoring her to him. It’s almost painful, the way he squeezes her but she asked him to borrow her strength so she won’t complain about tired knees and muscles. She can’t resist the fingers he slips between them and closes her eyes to ride her orgasm. She’s still tightening around him when he flips them on the bed. Jaal hovers above her and her heart stutters in the grip of fear. “Stay with me,” Sara begs again. “Please stay with me.”

He moves inside her with hard strokes, each snap of his hips a blessing, each slide of his cock a benediction. As she comes apart for a second time, his mouth descends to hers, demanding and greedy, tongue slipping in to find hers, hot breaths shared and swallowed. “Shh, darling one,” he sooths, “I’m not going anywhere.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Much appreciated!


End file.
